


fluffy like pancakes

by sheriffofclowntown



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, do you cook pancakes or bake them???, hopper is grateful for el and they make pancakes, idk man that's all it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:01:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23600482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheriffofclowntown/pseuds/sheriffofclowntown
Summary: Hopper teaches El how to make pancakes.
Relationships: Eleven | Jane Hopper & Jim "Chief" Hopper
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24





	fluffy like pancakes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DeutchRemy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeutchRemy/gifts).



> (CEO of spending 10 minutes trying to remember how to spell occurrence)

Some mornings, Hopper would wake up and stare at the ceiling, mind sunk into a spiral of grief and anger and memories of Sara. How she didn’t deserve what had become of her, how he didn’t deserve the loss of his only daughter. How strong she’d been, even in the face of an unyielding fate. 

These occurrences didn’t cease once he took custody of El, but it was harder for him to drown every time the waves of sorrow crashed against the shore of his mind. His heart still ached from the loss of his daughter. It was still unfair that Sara had never seen double digits. The world had needed fighters like her. 

But now he could see how fortunate he was to have El. Another chance, another daughter, another fierce kid ready to take on the world. And this time, he knew better than to take her for granted. So, in between extended hours and TV dinners, he spent his time with El. They played board games and watched cheesy Westerns before Hopper trudged to his room or, on the particularly tiring days, fell asleep on the ratty recliner. 

Still, he felt as if something was missing, some role that he wasn’t filling as her father figure. Maybe, he thought, he could schedule some vacation time and spend the day, just the two of them. It was on a routine grocery run that he had an idea—something they could do together that El was sure to enjoy, while at the same time learning something new. He had a full cart by the time he reached the register, and a smile that he had to fight to keep contained. It had been a while since he’d been looking forward to something so much. It felt nice. 

Florence had raised a single brow when he told her to schedule him off for a day. He thought he heard her mumble something that sounded suspiciously like “finally” under her breath, but paid it little mind. After all, even in a quiet town like Hawkins, he had a busy job. He told El that he wanted to spend the day with her a week in advance; the last thing he wanted was to ruin the day by interrupting her plans to traipse around with the Wheeler kid and deal with a grumpy El all day. 

Hopper was up by 7:00 when the morning came, but decided to let El sleep in. Instead, he worked in the kitchen. He made a pot of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table, sorting through the pile of mail that had been steadily growing. The outdated coupon flyers for Melvald’s and Harbor Freight made a 2-inch stack on their own. The other items- mostly just junk mail and newspapers- had to be separated into several piles to avoid them from toppling over. In the end, he tossed most of it out, only keeping a few papers for kindling. Afterward, he took care of the dishes drying in the rack by placing them in their proper cabinets as quietly as possible. With a clear counter and table, he began pulling out the items he bought earlier. 

The clatter of the frying pan against the stovetop drew El out of her room at around 9:00. 

“Hey, kid. Sorry if I woke you.” 

“What is this?” She asked, scanning the kitchen. 

“We’re going to make breakfast together,” Hopper said, turning back around to face the stove. 

“Are you sure?” Eleven looked skeptical. He couldn’t blame her; it was rare that he would cook for them both, the rigor of his job rendering him too exhausted to make a meal by the end of the day.

“Uh, yeah. Come on, get over here and I’ll show you how to make pancakes. You ever had pancakes made from scratch?” 

She shook her head, walking over with curiosity in her eyes. “Pancakes?” 

“They’re like waffles, but without the little squares.” 

“Better than Eggos?” El asked, peering at the cluster of ingredients on the kitchen table. 

“Much better,” Hopper promised. “Let’s start with the liquid ingredients, okay? You’re gonna pour three-quarters of a cup of milk in this bowl first.”

El nodded, dark eyes focused on the task at hand. She carefully added milk to the cup measurer, then stepped back. “Like this?” She asked, sounding uncertain. 

Hopper crouched to look at the level of milk, then nodded and ruffled her hair, eliciting a giggle. “Perfect. Now 2 tablespoons of vinegar. I’ll pour, you tell me when to stop, alright?” 

“Why vinegar?” She asked as hopper hefted the jug over the tiny spoon. 

“It makes the milk get thicker. Almost curdles it.” He laughed at her wrinkled nose. “It tastes better than it sounds, I promise. Just let it set on the side for a bit and you’ll see what I mean.”

They worked together to measure out the dry ingredients, Hopper directing El and occasionally answering her questions. There was a surprisingly small amount of flour on the table, thanks to her extreme concentration when dealing with each aspect of the batter. Hopper turned on the stove to heat the pan, then supervised the melting of the butter. He knew that El could handle a hot cooktop, but all the same, he felt more comfortable doing it himself and leaving her to whisk the dry parts together. 

“Now we add the butter and vanilla to the milk,” Hopper instructed. 

“This looks gross,” El said flatly. 

“No one’s going to make you eat them,” he shot back, bumping her shoulder lightly. She gave him a small smile, mixing the liquids. 

He took over the job of mixing as El added in the dry mixture slowly, showing her how to test for lumps in the batter. “It’s ready now?” She asked as he set the mixing bowl by the stove. 

“Sure is. I’m going to rub this stick of the butter on the bottom of the pan, and you drop the first one in.” 

“Isn’t it a non-stick pan?” She asked, watching him grease the pan. 

“It is but- well- just don’t question my method, kid. It works like this, okay? Just put the batter in.” Hopper replied, frowning. 

El smiled, dripping a large spoonful of batter in the pan—and on the stove and counter between the bowl and the final destination. Hopper chuckled as she frowned at the mess. 

“Don’t worry about it. First pancake is always the worst one,” He reassured her. “Now you wait for it to bubble, then flip.” The pancake was slightly burnt around the edges when he slid the spatula under it. “This is what I meant when I said the first is the worst one. See how it’s only burnt in some areas? The pan’s too hot.” He reached up to turn down the heat as El peered down at it. He set it aside when the other side was cooked—too hot meant it was likely a bit raw in the middle, so they’d throw it out to the squirrels after breakfast. 

“Now watch this. You take a spoonful of batter, like this, see?” He instructed. 

“Yes,” El said, nodding. 

“Then take it and drag the bottom of the spoon across the rim of the bowl. Now it doesn’t drip when you bring it over to the pan.” Hopper poured it into the pan to illustrate his point. 

They continued on, standing side-by-side at the stove. El would pour the batter and tell Hopper when to flip them, and within a few minutes, they had two towering stacks of fresh pancakes on the far side of the stovetop. 

“That wasn’t so hard, right?” He asked, smiling at El as she stared at the food. She shook her head and shot a quick grin back up at him. 

Hopper handed El her plate, watching fondly as she raided the fridge for toppings. She added syrup, whipped cream, and fruit to her stack of pancakes, while Hopper took advantage of the hot pan to fry them each an egg and reheat the pre-cooked bacon strips he had bought from the store the other day. 

Later, after consuming far too much food, Hopper asked, “Better than Eggos?” 

El shrugged with a small smile. “Maybe.”

**Author's Note:**

> You call it excessive punctuation and grammar errors, I call it my writing style. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading almost 1,400 words about pancakes lmao


End file.
